Patient
by ravenwings52
Summary: A companion fic to Wordless. Sometimes, being what people expect is easier. But Ferb is human too, and he wants to be acknowledged by Isabella. Ferbella.


Everybody seems to think that I am incredibly patient. Sometimes I'd like to tell them that I'm even more impatient than my brother, but it's easier not to say anything.

And that's the problem, isn't it? Because I'm quiet, people think that I'm perfectly fine with everything. It's true that most things won't bother me, but I'm human as well.

Everyday, little things bother me. Usually Phineas can tell, and he makes small adjustments for me. I used to feel bad, but now it's just a habit for both of us. He knows how I feel, and I support him no matter what. But he can't fix everything. Some things are for me to deal with alone, and I'm just not able to. It's easier to be pushed to the side and out of the spotlight, to choose to help out behind the scenes. It's not natural to me to speak out when not absolutely necessary. and it will probably never be.

It's nice to know people's expectations of you. I easily fulfill my role as the silent older brother, the man of action, the right hand man. I let Phineas do what he does best: be the center of attention, the optomistic one, the main character of our story. It's more comfortable this way.

Phineas should be the main character, the hero. He knows how to bring out the best in everybody. Because of him, I have friends. Family. But sometimes, I just want a moment for myself. I don't want to be brushed off to the side every time.

I can usually keep these feelings down. I'm not ashamed of thinking these things, but I know that Phineas would feel bad if he ever knew. But when I see Isabella get shot down time and time again, I want to stop being the good friend that comforts her. Her crush's brother. I just want to be Ferb, not somebody she's close to just because I'm related to her love interest.

It's been years since we built a rollercoaster in the backyard, but Phineas is still as oblivious as when we were ten. I try to stay within my character, to help Isabella 'get the guy.' I leave them alone when it's just us three, and offer her a handkerchief when she cries. I don't hug her. I know that if I did, she would just wish I was Phineas instead.

I love my brother. He's my best friend, my partner, and sometimes someone to look up to. But I do envy him sometimes.

I asked Isabella what she thought of me, once.

"You're quiet, and kind, and mature. Smart, too, and a gentleman."

Exactly how everybody sees me. I didn't say anything for the rest of the day.

Phineas noticed. Phineas always notices. But he's learned to read my moods, and let me be.

It's things like that that bother me. Sometimes I wonder what would happen, if I suddenly decided to say everything on my mind. Instead of just waiting for people to figure me out, to tell them myself.

But I'm scared to think of what might happen.

Isabella has tried to talk to me more. I like to oblige her, to spill a few reflections I have. She monopolizes most of the conversation, but tries to see what I have to say. I'm glad. She's the first one to try since Phineas.

I know that she's been changing lately. She doesn't look at Phineas all the time, or get carried away when he asks her to help him. I know that she'll tell me when she's ready.

And when she does, when she says that she's moved on, put her crush behind her, is it so wrong to feel just the tiniest bit relieved? Just a little happy that Phineas isn't going to be the only one on her eyes, anymore?

I almost voiced those thoughts aloud, almost asked her if that meant that she'd see me as an individual now. Instead, I let myself hug her without having to wonder if she felt it at all.

That night, Phineas asked me of something happened. I didn't feel any different. He said that I seemed more content than usual. I guess he knows me better than I do at times.

Isabella visits even when Phineas isn't home. It makes me feel more secure, to know that I'm her friend too. When she does, we don't do much. We talk a little, and I tinker. She tells me that she still feels like a caterpillar at times. I don't think she's realized that she's become a butterfly yet.

And I think that I'm starting to become myself a little more as well.

I almost ruined it all, though. We were sitting alone, and I remembered something she said a while back. I let my heart show for a split second, and just said what I felt. I let the word 'love' slip from my mouth, and she ran.

I was strangely calm, and focused on finishing the small butterfly in my hand. It was for her, I think.

She came back. By then, it was late afternoon. I didn't say a word, just motioned for her to come closer. Then I let it fly. The small metal wings gleamed, and Isabella was thoroughly enchanted. She told me what I wanted to hear.

We didn't make any promises there, of course. I didn't sweep her up and kiss her senseless, rididng away into the sunset.

It's something that can't be rushed. It needs to grow naturally, with time. We both want to let our friendship grow before trying anything else. Both of us are butterflies, but we need to test our wings before flying. It feels right this way.

And for this, I can be patient.


End file.
